Crimson Eyes
by the sixth turk
Summary: Vincent Valentine is settled into his life as a Turk. One night, he becomes entangled in one of Hojo's sinister plots, and his life is changed forever. Can a lowly flower girl bring him out of his shell and heal his wounded spirit? Crack, Vincent x Aerith
1. Chapter 1

Rain streamed mercilessly from the leaden sky, falling onto his head and dripping off the tips of his black hair. Crimson eyes stared out of a pale face, shadowed by dark circles under the eyes.

Vincent Valentine crouched in the shadows, one hand on the concrete wall of the building next to him. He silently inched forward, feet slipping on the wet pavement, and squinted into the twilight around the corner. Vincent saw nothing that could be identified as a threat, but he was cautious as a matter of habit. He stood upright and glided around the bend onto the next street, little more than a dirty alleyway, without making a sound. Rain drummed loudly off the corrugated metal roofs.

Vincent pressed himself against the wall, feeling its roughness against his back. A footfall sounded near him and his hand dropped to rest on Cerberus. He was sliding the gun out of its holster when Tseng materialized in the dark at his side.

"Negative for signs of rebel activity," murmured the other Turk, his voice pitched low to avoid attracting unwanted attention.

Vincent nodded solemnly. "No activity here, either." He swiped at his sodden hair, brushing it out if his eyes. "Head for the reactors. I'll meet you there shortly." Tseng touched two fingers to his forehead in salute before melting into the darkness.

Vincent turned the other way and skulked down the sidewalk, straining to see through the rain. He reached another cross-street and turned left around the corner… to come within millimeters of being impaled.

Vincent dove to the right, tucking his legs and spinning into a flip that landed him on his feet three meters away. His attacker took two steps forward and dropped into a crouch, weapon held crosswise in front.

Placing a single foot ahead, the mysterious figure swung the spear at Vincent's knees, pivoting on one heel when the blow failed to connect. The Turk sprang into the air and drove his own foot straight for the other's face.

The figure threw up an arm, grabbed Vincent's elbow, and flipped him neatly into the wall. Vincent bent his knees to absorb the shock and pushed off the concrete, breaking free of the grip on his elbow. He landed in a crouch, and saw the other's shocked expression right before Vincent's fist snapped out and caught him full in the face.

Slumped against the wall, the figure had scraggly blond hair and goggles pushed halfway up his forehead. Vincent saved the incident to mull over later and stretched into a flat-out run, headed for the reactors.

x-x-x

Twenty minutes later, Vincent reached the bright green spurts of light that marked the existence of the ShinRa mako reactors. Shielding his eyes with an arm, he moved underneath one of the enormous structures and tapped a code into the control panel. The recessed hatch slid open with a hiss, and Vincent entered, dripping puddles of water onto the metal floor.

"You do know that you were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago, I hope?" The lights came up just enough for Vincent to see the distinctive blonde hair and tapping toe of another Turk - Elena. He bowed his head in a deferential gesture.

"My apologies. I had some difficulties on the way back," said Vincent, his low voice echoing in the cavernous space. Elena gestured impatiently with her hand.

"Whatever. Just hurry up and get ready. We've got a job to do."

She didn't have to tell him that this job was perhaps one of the most important the Turks had ever been entrusted with. Vincent knew. Knew that somewhere in the facility was President Shinra's son, Rufus. Knew that somewhere outside was a movement of people who would very much like to see ShinRa suffer for what they'd done to the planet. Knew that he and four other Turks were all that stood between the two. Vincent sighed and stepped back to guard the hatchway, bound and determined to do his duty.

Outside, several shadows moved increasingly closer to the reactor.


	2. Chapter 2

"Is everything in place and prepared for the assault?" asked the hooded blond man. His companion nodded, white laboratory coat gleaming in the near dark. "Good," said Rufus Shinra. "Your payment will be available whenever you decide that it is necessary. As agreed."

The scientist pulled a photograph out of an inside pocket. "I want this," he stated flatly.

Rufus startled backwards. "But…sir, do you realize what you're asking for?" The scientist slid a gun off the belt at his waist and pointed it at the other's head.

"You said anything I wanted, as long as your security was guaranteed." The scientist's voice dripped with malice. "Trust me, what I'm about to undertake is of far more importance to me than even the life of President Shinra's son. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life babysitting you." He shifted his arm so that the muzzle of the gun rested against Rufus' temple. "And you would do well to remember that."

Rufus sighed. "Very well." Really, what was one supposed to say to a slightly lunatic person holding a gun to one's head? He gestured to the door. "Hatchway C-30." The scientist bowed at the waist, then straightened and exited from the tiny, steel-walled room. A small piece of paper fluttered in his wake and settled to the floor. Leaning forward in his seat, Rufus stretched out a hand and plucked it from the floor.

Vincent Valentine's crimson eyes stared out from the photograph.

_x-x-x_

A group of individuals crept through the labyrinth of buildings on the outer perimeter of the mako reactors. One figure detached from the main unit and slid forward to reconnoiter. A pervasive green glow lit up the area for two hundred meters around the circumference of the reactor. The figure carefully skirted the edge, slipping into the shadow cast by a towering building.

Cid Highwind pushed his goggles higher into his thin blond hair and spat on the pavement by his feet. "Give me Sierra any day," he grumbled. Sticking his hand into the light, Cid made a fist and rotated his wrist, extending two fingers in the AVALANCHE signal for all clear, proceed with caution. One by one, his companions joined him. Cid shifted his spear to the other hand. Green light glinted off the drying blood on his face. Barret Wallace poked Cid.

"What beastie jumped out and bit ya this time?" he growled, probing the myriad of cuts and bruises on Cid's face with careful fingers. The latter pushed Barret's hand away impatiently.

"Black-haired he. Red-eyed he. Tall and highly skilled he. That's all I know about he, all right?" Cid snapped. "Probably one of those blasted Turks. Now, let's move out and kick his butt along with all them other planet-killers."

Barret nodded grimly and hefted his right arm, checking the gun attachment. He swept his other arm, indicating that they should all proceed.

"Move," he growled. "We've got work to do before sunup."

x-x-x

Vincent leaned against the concrete wall beside the hatch, balanced on his heels with elbows resting on his knees. To the casual glance, he appeared to be asleep, but his ears were attuned to every little sound around him. Like that leaky water pipe. The constant _drip-drip-drip_ was about to drive him completely mad. The floor was wet and dirty; the air was chilly and smelled of sulfur. Vincent shifted a little so that his back would slide free of the pebble lodged between it and the wall.

It was too still. According to his timepiece, two hours had passed, with no sign whatsoever that AVALANCHE was attempting an attack on the building.

Vincent got to his feet and patted his pocket. Dang. His phone must have fallen out during the fight earlier. With no way of knowing what was occurring at the other hatchways, Vincent paced in circles, clenching and unclenching his fist on Cerberus' hilt.

Finally, he decided to check on Rufus Shinra. He turned about and hit the light switch. Immediately, the reactor interior was bathed in light. Vincent winced. Too bright. He flipped the switch to the off position and started across the floor, spots dancing in front of his eyes. He turned left when he reached the first hallway and rapped on the door.

When no answer came from within, he pulled a key card from his belt and slid it into the slot. The door clicked open and Vincent stepped inside. He could just make out the shape of someone sitting in a wheelchair, slumped over the back. Rufus?

Vincent spun towards the door, intent on finding whoever had managed to sneak inside a heavily guarded facility and harm the President's son. A black shadow stood in the doorway. Vincent snatched Cerberus from his side, but a thin tendril of light snaked out from the figure and wrapped around the gun, yanking it from his grip.

"My, my, Mr. Valentine, is this all you've learned in the service of the Turks? How disappointing." The figure flicked his wrist and the lightwhip entangled Vincent's arms. He struggled to pull free, but a single tug from his opponent tipped him off balance. From his position on the floor, Vincent could see that Rufus was now sitting upright in the wheelchair. _What?_ he thought fuzzily. His legs wouldn't move. The last thing Vincent heard before blackness claimed him was Rufus' far away voice.

"He's all yours…Hojo."


	3. Chapter 3

Cid jogged along in the shadows. He had moved back from the reactors, into the surrounding buildings, in an attempt to find the weak point in ShinRa's defenses. He turned right down a dimly lit one-way street. He brought his arm up to check the timepiece strapped to his wrist. _2:35._ Cid cursed silently to himself. The pointless fight with that black-haired Turk had left AVALANCHE running almost half an hour behind schedule.

As if his thoughts had conjured it, Cid's foot kicked something and sent it skidding into the brick wall beside him. He knelt in the mud and picked up the object: a featureless black cell phone. Featureless except for the bright red streak on the back. Cid was trying to figure out why this was giving him such a bad feeling when the phone vibrated in his hand.

x-x-x

Elena paced in circles around Tseng, muttering to herself. Abruptly, she halted and snapped her phone shut. "Vincent's not answering," she grumbled. "And that means that he's either somewhere his phone is not, or he's doing something that he doesn't want me to find out about."

Tseng raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, fine!" Elena huffed. "Stand there and be the stoic guardian. I want to know what's going on!" She flipped open her phone again and began stabbing at the buttons. "I'm calling him once more! Once more, before I personally stuff a bazillion tons of mako down his throat! He's a Turk, and that means he's got to do his job! I refuse to do it for him!"

Tseng pointed at the phone and cleared his throat. "It would seem to me that you are succeeding brilliantly at that already."

He found it prudent to hurry back to his own station immediately.

x-x-x

Vincent returned to consciousness strapped to a metal laboratory bench. The nylon bindings cut into his skin, leaving itchy red marks when he tried to wiggle into a more comfortable position. Failing, he let his arms drop down to the table; he was startled when one of them hit the cold surface with a muted clank.

Vincent lifted his head and stared down his bare chest. Laying there beside him, where his arm should have been, was a golden metal monstrosity. It flexed when his fingers flexed, and moved when his arm moved. Vincent clenched his jaw, locking a scream behind his teeth. Slowly, he lifted his head even farther off the table. Two more metal appendages had replaced his legs.

The crimson eyes narrowed until they were mere slits. Vincent made a fist of his claw and pulled it straight up. The strap snapped with no more effort than if it had been a rubber band. With one arm free, he extended a golden finger and awkwardly picked at the latch on the opposite restraint. The clasp popped free, and Vincent sat up. He pulled his legs out from under their bindings.

With a great clattering, Vincent swung off the table, black hair falling across his face and golden limbs glinting in the harsh light. A single step placed him at a battered grey storage locker. He reached out his claw and tore the door off its hinges. Inside sat a lone vial, nearly emptied of its milky green liquid, and an injector.

Vincent spun on his heel and began yanking open the drawers of filing cabinets. Plunging his flesh hand deep inside, he pulled out a sheaf of papers. Sitting on the top was a manila folder with his name scrawled in black ink. Beneath it was a glaring red stamp: "Specimen Deceased". Vincent flipped back the cover and scanned the next sheet.

Metal limb replacement a success. Specimen's reaction rather unexpected. What have I done wrong? Further research may indicate…

Vincent skipped to the bottom of the page. Scribbled at the bottom was a hasty note.

Attempt to render subject immortal a failure. Subject died on laboratory bench a short time later. Will commence further studies after autopsy.

The signature at the bottom read "Hojo."

Vincent closed the folder, looked at the name on the top. It was certainly his. Specimen deceased? And then he remembered the empty vial in the locker. He turned about and gently lifted the glass container from its shelf. Upon closer inspection, it was exactly what he expected it to be: liquid Lifestream. Someone had injected him with liquid Lifestream to bring him back from the dead. The crimson eyes filled with angry tears that refused to spill.

A short time later, all that was left to show that he had ever been there was a folder of flaming papers on the floor, slowly being charred into ash.


	4. Chapter 4

Hojo unlocked the triple bolt on his door and stepped inside his dark, bare house. Dusting snow from his head, he pulled off his trenchcoat and stamped his feet a few times. Snow settled to the floor, coating it with white. Hanging the jacket haphazardly in the closet, Hojo did a hurried walkthrough of all the echoing rooms and hallways in his home.

Finally, he was satisfied that no one had been or was on the premises. He checked to be sure that all of the heavy velvet drapes were closed and flipped the cover of his wall-mounted climate control. Hojo keyed for nineteen degrees and fifty percent humidity. A breath of slightly musty air touched the back of his neck. He snapped the thermostat cover closed and turned around. The concealed door under the stairwell stood open, its dark mouth yawning open like some species of monster born in a child's imagination.

Hojo smiled, pleased with the comparison. Indeed, that was his business - birthing new realities. But monster was such a crude word, fit for the likes of the common rabble. He preferred to think of his creations as theories - things to be thought up, made tangible, and perfected. Hojo stepped forward into the dark stairwell, heading for his underground laboratory. The door swung shut behind him.

The first indication of something gone awry was the smell of smoke. Hojo always kept his laboratory impeccably clean and sterile. As he entered, a slowly smoldering pile of ash greeted him. A little ways behind the cinders sat a ransacked filing cabinet.

Hojo stared in disbelief. What had occurred? Something so far out of his calculations could not possibly happen. He always planned for everything, was never surprised, never let his own work outwit him.

With a sick feeling in his stomach, Hojo reached for the light switch and jammed it up. Harsh blue light poured down on his lab bench. The one where he'd strapped the flailing monstrosity, who had died minutes later. The one that was now empty, the straps hanging shredded and limp off the sides. All that was left was a picture, torn in half. Hojo moved to the bench and picked up one of the halves. Written across it in drying blood were six words:

_What have you done to me?_

Trembling with fear, the scientist picked up the other half. It had only two words, scrawled underneath those furious crimson eyes.

_No mercy._

x-x-x

The moon hung in the sky, dropping ribbons of silver into the artificial canyons between buildings, casting sharp shadows on the crumbling facades of the concrete structures. The city drowsed; only fugitives and the exiles of society were out in the cold of the night.

Vincent was both.

Crouching on a rooftop with his head resting in his hands, he resembled an eagle, tucked within its wings and brooding in the long hours before dawn. A sliver of moonlight lay in front of Vincent, taunting him with its luminosity and reminding him again of what he'd lost.

Slowly, he pivoted on his heels and turned his back on the light. He crept to the edge of the building and slid down the drainpipe, landing softly on the ground. The wind had picked up, blowing clouds across the leering face of the moon and throwing a shroud of darkness on the city. Vincent shivered. The crimson cape he wore billowed in the wind and did nothing to assuage the chill.

Glancing about, he crossed the empty street to the building directly opposite. Vincent crouched down, wedging himself into the corner where the tall wooden doors met the stone walls, and pulled the tatters of his cloak around him.

He did not notice the pink ribbon come sailing in on the wind to alight near his feet.

x-x-x

Four Turks were making their rounds of the ShinRa building when the call came in.

"Find him. At all costs – even his life. Or yours."


	5. Chapter 5

"Thank you, young lady." The mother's eyes glistened with tears as she managed a shaky smile. Her little boy lay sleeping in her arms.

Aerith smiled back. After spending four hours (and one Restore materia) sitting on the floor by his mattress, she had finally managed to dispel the scarlet fever. Pulling on her red jacket, Aerith turned to leave. She had barely stepped out onto the still-wet sidewalk when the wind attempted to blow her sideways. Aerith clutched at her jacket, but was too slow to snatch the ribbon that sailed off her braid.

"Such lovely weather," she murmured, and dashed off after it. Her hair, no longer bound in a tidy plait, streamed out in brown ringlets behind her. Aerith skidded through a puddle, soaking her boots and splashing the hem of her pink dress. She spotted the ribbon ahead, tumbling in the mud near the door of the church. It finally halted, settling close to the foot of a rag pile. Aerith, breathing a little hard from her run, slid to a halt and snatched her wayward ribbon. It hung limp and bedraggled from her hand. She turned to go.

And then the heap of rags in the corner… moved.

x-x-x

Vincent pushed away his cloak and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. His black hair, flopping over the bandana, hung in his face and obscured his view of the pink blob in front of him. Automatically, he reached up with his left hand to clear away the dark strands. The pink blob resolved itself into a girl, wearing a pink dress and currently backing slowly away from him. Her green eyes were wide, staring at his left side.

Vincent looked down. There across his lap, glaring gold in the pale morning light, laid his claw. He quickly pulled his cape over it, hiding the evidence of his altered humanity. The girl had her back pressed to the stone wall directly opposite. Something fell out of her hand and landed on the ground at her feet. In one smooth motion, Vincent rose to his feet and bent forward. Scooping up the object, he straightened and offered it to her with his right hand. Her eyebrows drew together in a quizzical frown, but she took the recovered pink ribbon from his hand and offered a little smile. Her eyes remained solemn and scared. Vincent stepped away and started down the sidewalk.

He had gone half a step when a shot rang out and chips of stone flew from the ground between him and the girl. The old combat reflexes had not deserted him. In a split second decision, Vincent spun around, grabbed the girl's arm and took off down the street, dodging in and out between the few pedestrians and vehicles making their way to work. Whoever was shooting would logically assume that she was in some way affiliated with him and hunt her down as well. Vincent had no intention of letting that happen.

Skidding around a corner, he slowed to a stop in a dank, sour-smelling alleyway. Out of breath, the girl slumped down with her back against a wooden garbage bin. Vincent stood just inside the entry, waiting to ambush the attacker who would surely follow. But he wasn't prepared for exactly who stepped around the corner.

Elena planted her feet. Raising her arm, she pointed her gun straight at Vincent.

"Your betrayal of the Turks," she spat, "will be dealt with."

Vincent shifted slightly to the left, the better to protect the girl behind him.

"I have betrayed no one, Elena," he stated, calmly, but with a voice like glacial ice. He saw a slight wavering in the arm holding the gun. She was shaking with rage. And no wonder. The Turks had an unbreakable loyalty to one another.

"Is your bond with the Turks worth so little to you?" the blonde growled. "So little that you could just take off and shatter everything that it means to be one? I thought I had you figured, Vincent. I guess I was wrong." She bowed her head; eyes closed, she saluted the sky with two fingers – the unmistakable gesture of the Turks. A world to which, by no fault of his own, Vincent could never return.

Tseng, Reno, and Rude emerged from the air behind Elena. "Justice served," she said. All four advanced.

Behind Vincent, a lone figure in a pink dress huddled against the dustbin.


	6. Chapter 6

The sun was rising slowly, and pale light began to streak the concrete landscape. The wind had stopped blowing violently; now it was nothing more than a breath, ruffling the hair of the five people standing motionless in the alley.

Sitting miserably in a mud puddle, Aerith clutched her knees to her chest. She dared not move, even as those people advanced upon the man standing in front of her. Water soaked through her dress and chilled her already cold legs. The red cloak of her strange companion stirred slightly in the breeze. She glimpsed gold metal peeking out from the black pants he wore, a perfect match to his arm. What had happened in his past to bring him to this state? Aerith wondered. Her thoughts were interrupted – he was speaking.

"And is your compassion so limited that you would strike down even a former comrade before hearing his account of the matter?" A stone would have spoken with more emotion. The blonde woman's lip raised in a snarl. Gesturing with the barrel of the gun, she stopped walking and shifted her weight to lean against the featureless grey wall beside her.

"So, talk," she said.

"What is the nature of my supposed betrayal?" he asked.

The blonde – Elena – rolled her eyes and gestured to the black-haired man beside her. He produced a sidearm, seemingly from nowhere, and clicked off the safety. The "pop" echoed loudly in the sudden silence.

"You," Elena said, "are supposed to be telling us that."

"Why would you believe such lies?" The stone façade had finally cracked and Aerith could hear desperation in his voice. "Do you actually think me capable of desertion? Elena, listen to me. I didn't leave – I was captured."

She shook her head. "Vincent, you're a terrible liar. Who in the world would ever be able to take down a Turk?"

Aerith jerked suddenly. This man was a Turk?

"Elena, we're not invincible…"

"There you go again. _We._" She heaved a gusty sigh. "No. We're talking about _you_."

Vincent nodded. "Very well. I'll talk about me. I was guarding the hatch in the reactor, as you very well know, since you were doing the same thing. I decided to go check on the President's son. Rufus apparently decided that I would be payment for that madman who calls himself a scientist. I woke up in a laboratory, strapped to a bench after being subjected to the replacement of my limbs and an injection of liquid Lifestream. I…have… not…betrayed…you." The last words were bitten out as if they burned his mouth. "They want to ensure my demise before word of failure ever reaches the President. And they called you to do it."

Elena's eyes were hard slits now. Her hand clenched on the gun, the veins bulging. "Nice story, but it's full of bullet holes," she growled. "Just like you will be."

Aerith's fingers found the smooth outline of the materia nestled against her side.

"They want assurance of your demise," said Elena. "And that's exactly what they're going to get." She pulled the trigger.

With a cry of terror, Aerith leaped to her feet and thrust her arm forward, palm first. A blinding flash of green light exploded from her hand. The resulting clear wall of light rippled as a bullet impacted and bounced off. Aerith sank onto her heels, blinking spots from her eyes.

"A Barrier materia," Vincent said, turning around. "I won't ask how you got it." He extended a hand. Aerith grasped it and he pulled her to her feet. She stumbled, still weak from the aftereffects of adrenaline, and he caught her, holding her close to his chest. She looked up. Nearly hidden behind the fall of raven-black hair, his crimson eyes glowed with an inner fire. He caught her looking, and a curtain dropped over his eyes as he steadied her and moved away.

"Wait," Aerith said. She felt her face turning red and berated herself for imagining things that could never be. She continued, trying to control the unbridled emotions running through her. "Where are you going?"

He did not turn. "Away, before the barrier falls and I get shot." Now he did turn, fixing her with the full intensity of his gaze. "And I would suggest that you do the same." With a whisper of his scarlet cloak, he grasped a drainpipe and darted agilely up to the roof.

Aerith was left alone, standing in a dirty puddle with four Turks standing ready to kill her on the other side of the barrier. She whispered to the empty space where Vincent had stood. "I'm coming with you. Whether you want me to or not." With that, she hiked her dress to her knees and clambered up onto the roof.


	7. Chapter 7

"Loyalty to one's compatriots comes above all. If loyalty requires the sacrifice of all else, even the disbanding of the order, then so be it. This is the way of the Turks – the undying devotion to its members that keeps it alive and flourishing."

Three weeks later

A tall man with spiky black hair ambled slowly along the sidewalk. Dark brows angled downward over bright blue eyes. He wore leather gloves and heavy boots with a gray jumpsuit.

The tall man was Vincent.

He'd thought it best to disguise himself for the time being. Letting go of his former identity had been hard. Countless little things connected him to the old life. Vincent had to consciously remind himself to slouch a little and quit scanning the area like everything was a threat. In short, he had to stop carrying himself as a Turk and melt into the everyday lives of so many others.

For seven days now, Vincent had uncurled from his makeshift bed near the generator on a rooftop, slid down the drainpipe, and walked the streets of the bustling city until nightfall. Following the same route every day, he would walk past the fabric cart with a polite nod for the small girl sitting bundled up in her shawl. He would stop in at the tiny cafe wedged between two corporate buildings for a bite to eat and a cup of tea. And then he would make a large, roundabout circle of inner Edge, passing the bar with the big wooden sign, the laundry run by the redheaded, freckle-faced lady, the dusty bookstore with the rocking chair on the steps.

Vincent remembered the day when the owner of the café had spotted him on the street and grabbed his arm, calling, "Zack! Come, sit with an old friend for a while!" He had had no idea who the old man thought he was. But Vincent had followed the wizened old man to the single table under the green awning, where he had been plied with tea and cakes and caught up on all the "news." While listening to the old man rattle on about this and that, Vincent had mulled over the name. Zack. It was as good as any to start a new life…again.

Sometimes he would trace his steps back to the ancient stone church where he'd spent the first night on his own. He would stand before the towering wooden doors for a few minutes and then leave, never actually going in. The familiar building provided Vincent with a sense of comfort.

Often he found himself thinking of the plucky young woman who had saved his life weeks before. Those lively green eyes were frequently at the front of his mind. When Vincent made his rounds of the city, he realized that he was unconsciously looking for a certain smiling face. He wondered why she had made such an impact on him. And then he would find himself wondering if he had made an equal impact on her.

x-x-x

Aerith sat moodily on the window seat in the upstairs of Seventh Heaven. Pale sun shone through the glass, illuminating the dust rings and dried rain flecks on the surface. Sighing, she pulled shut the white curtains and sat down at her desk. Picking up a pencil, Aerith pulled out a sheet of white paper and began to sketch mindlessly in an attempt to distract herself.

Somehow she wasn't surprised when, twenty minutes later, the drawing ended up as a man with long hair, claws, and a red cape. She studied the finished product, frowned, and pulled out a stick of red chalk. Aerith attacked the paper once more. Finally she stood up, smoothing her dress. A pair of crimson eyes looked up at her.

Aerith smiled wanly and went to lean against the windowsill, leaving the drawing on her desk. Surely Vincent never thought of her. Why would he? Still, she admitted, she knew that somewhere he was looking at the same sky that she saw out the window. And she couldn't help but hope that, just maybe, he would remember her fondly.

x-x-x

Hojo paced back and forth. "Where is he?" the scientist demanded. None of the four Turks in front of him moved a muscle. Rufus Shinra sat impassively off to the side. Hojo rolled his eyes. Really, these overrated assassins were as spoiled and bratty as the President's son himself.

Finally Tseng stepped forward. "Sir," he said, managing to convey a sense of disdain behind the polite honorific, "the Turks request immediate removal from their assigned mission to forcibly retrieve said individual." He stepped back into the line with such precision that Hojo was left to wonder why he didn't merely snap in half. Rufus rolled forward in his wheelchair and opened his mouth to speak, but Hojo cut him off.

"Absolutely not!" he barked, face turning red. "This mission is of utmost criticality. You will fulfill your mandate or I shall find some suitable way to punish you for insubordination!" Abruptly he was calm again. Rufus rolled forward until he was mere feet away from the scientist.

"Just ignore him for now," Rufus said, speaking to the Turks and pretending not to notice Hojo working up into another tirade. "All commands come from me, not him, no matter how he'd like to think differently. I hereby order you to continue the search, but…" and here he held up a finger, "…I shall decide how you are to be punished if you fail. Understood?"

The Turks snapped their hands up into two-fingered salute. "Understood!" they said vigorously, if not enthusiastically. Turning as one, they exited the room, shutting the door behind them.

"See?" Rufus said, turning to the fuming Hojo. "Nothing at all to worry about. They'll do their job." Almost to himself, he added, "It's the way of the Turks. And they'll follow it to the death."


	8. Chapter 8

When night fell, four Turks slipped out of the ShinRa compound. Wearing hooded black combat suits, they were barely visible as they spread into fan formation, running flat out for the gate in the tall concrete fence.

Skidding to a halt, Tseng pulled off a black glove with his teeth and punched a ten-digit code into the keypad. With a groan, the gate began to open, sliding ponderously in its track. The Turks didn't wait for it to open fully, instead slipping silently through and hitting the lock mechanism on the way out. The four assassins sprinted alongside the road, hurdling dirt patches and staying in the shorter grass to foil any pursuers.

"So, tell me again why we're running away from ShinRa in the middle of the night, yo," Reno puffed, the words coming in staccato bursts between gasping breaths.

Rude glanced over his shoulder. "Liars," he said.

Reno rolled his eyes, a gesture that went unseen in the dark. "Expand, please."

Elena slowed her pace slightly so that she was running beside the redhead. "You remember the boss told us that Valentine bailed out on the Turks, right? Betrayed us and went underground?" Reno nodded.

Without looking back, Tseng said, "I overheard a conversation between Hojo and the President's son yesterday."

Reno's head tipped off to the side and an incredulous expression formed on his face. Tseng? _Eavesdropping?_ He'd never thought that the by-the-book Turk leader had it in him.

Elena nodded, confirming the statement. "More specifically, he heard Rufus berating Hojo for letting 'the experiment' escape. Think about it. When we saw him last, before that incident with the materia, Vincent had metal limb replacements. Wouldn't it make sense that he was the experiment that Hojo was talking about?"

"So…we decided to run away because…Vincent was experimented on?" Reno sounded like he was seriously wondering if Elena had dropped her brain somewhere.

Tseng shook his head. "Not precisely. This is proof that ShinRa took one of ours, experimented on him, and then lied in order to sufficiently motivate the Turks to track him down. The truth positively rankles. Remember, loyalty to one's compatriots…"

"…comes above all." Elena, Rude, and Reno finished his sentence for him.

"Yes," said Tseng. "And we must sacrifice all we have ever known. ShinRa will come after us when they learn of our escape. But the Turks will fight to the last breath to see their honor venerated." He paused. "Agreed?"

Even in the dark, he knew that the others were touching two fingers to their own foreheads.

Faint dawn began to dissolve the stars nearest to the horizon as the Turks sped over the rough ground. Reno continued to grumble about all the running and the lack of food.

"You didn't even tell me what was going on before you dragged me out of there, yo. How do you expect me to be in a good mood?" he whined.

Elena suggested that he shut up before she made good use of the duct tape in her pack.

x-x-x

Aerith looped the basket handle over her arm and shrugged her jacket on with the other hand. The day had barely dawned, but she wanted to get down to the church and pick flowers for the day's business before the streets got too busy. She stopped by the kitchen and slipped a roll into her pocket before stepping outside into the chill morning air. Aerith shivered and walked briskly down the sidewalk.

Fifteen minutes later, she reached the heavy wooden doors of the church. Aerith set the wicker basket down on the flagstones and pushed on the door with both hands. As it swung open a fraction, she picked up the basket again. With a whisper of skirts, Aerith slipped through the door and was immediately struck by the sweet scent of the flowers growing everywhere.

She waded carefully into the sea of white and yellow petals and sank down in their midst. It was only when she reached out to pluck a nearby blossom that she realized she was not alone.

Carefully, Aerith looked over and saw the person curled up on the floor a little ways away. Her heart pounded faster as she realized that the man had black hair. As she moved closer, though, she could see that it was short and spiky and not that fall of ebony strands that she remembered so well. Long black eyelashes rested on pale cheeks as he slept.

Aerith lowered herself to the ground and sat cross-legged a short distance away, dragging her basket over to rest next to her. As if her presence had alarmed him, the man sat up and slowly blinked his eyes open. Aerith worked to conceal her disappointment.

They were blue.

For a moment, the two stared at one another. Then, slowly and carefully, the man reached down by his feet and gently extracted the perfect ivory blossom growing there. With a solemn bow of his head, he extended his hand and offered it to her.

Aerith reached for the flower. As her hand touched it, his black-gloved fingers closed over hers. He pulled her to her feet, rising at the same time. Aerith trembled; what was this strange but oddly familiar man going to do with her?

He reached up with his left hand and rubbed his eyes. He blinked once and then his eyes focused on Aerith again. She could not stop herself from gasping when she looked up into his face and saw flaming crimson eyes.

"Wh…I thought…I mean, after…you look…" Aerith sputtered.

He raised his hand and she fell silent.

"I missed you," he said. "Aerith."

She was astounded. He continually surpirised her with his depth of knowledge and uncanny ability to discover what he didn't yet know. And then she surprised herself by taking two steps forward and pressing herself against his chest. His arms came around her, and she felt his chin rest on her head. She rested in his warmth, in his comfortable strength, in the fact that she was with him again.

His voice rumbled through her when he spoke again. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

Aerith smiled. "I didn't." Resting in his embrace, it was easy to believe that all was right with the world.

Almost to herself, she whispered, "I do now."

And then the church doors flew open.


	9. Chapter 9

"Where are they?" Hojo paced in circles, clenching and unclenching his hands. "It's been 4 weeks now, and they still haven't recovered the experiment." He turned to Rufus, eyes narrowing into slits. "I thought you said that the Turks were capable of any task set before them."

The President's son sat calmly in his wheelchair. "They are. It seems to be you that is having difficulty in understanding that these things take time. Remember that Valentine was once a Turk. If he doesn't want to be found, then he won't be found until he makes a mistake." Rufus could practically see the steam coming out of Hojo's ears.

To pacify the fuming scientist, he reached under his concealing robes and pulled out a cell phone. "Just to assure you that they haven't done something silly, like run away from the complex, I'll call Tseng and let you speak to him yourself." He dialed with one hand while motioning Hojo to be silent with the other. The scientist glared at him, but grudgingly complied. Rufus gave a mental sigh as the phone began ringing. How had he ever gotten himself into this?

x-x-x

The four Turks had barely dashed through the wide-flung doors of the church when Tseng's phone rang in his pocket. He fished it out and was about to answer it from force of habit when Reno's hand darted out and snatched it away. "Are you crazy?!" the redhead hissed. "If you're going to make me run an illegal marathon at this inhumane hour, the least you could do is not blow our cover!" Elena waved them silent and pointed to the far row of pews. Standing in among the flowers were two people. Both startled when they noticed the arrival of the Turks.

x-x-x

"I don't suppose you happen to have another Barrier with you?" Speaking without moving his lips, Vincent kept a sharp watch on the intruders. He was quite sure that the Turks would recognize Aerith right away, if not him.

"No," she said quietly. "But I have my ways of protecting those I love."

Vincent at once was amused by the notion of the slender girl protecting him and warmed by her spoken love for him. He glanced down at the pink ribbon tied securely to her braid, noticing how clean it was compared to the first time he'd seen it.

"So do I," he said. "It is time for me to repay my debt to you." Before she could inquire further, he stepped forward, in front of her, towards the four Turks arrayed in a semicircle by the doors.

"Brave of you," Elena said. "Don't sweat it, Vincent. We're not here on official business." At his look of slight surprise, she chuckled. "Did you really think that cutting your hair and changing clothes would hide who you really are? I mean, come on. Who else on the planet has flaming red eyes?" She sobered. "It took us way too long to realize our mistake. But late is better than never, I guess, so here we are." She shrugged expansively, letting her arms fall to her sides with a slap. "I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry" She turned to indicate the other three standing beside her. Tseng stepped forward.

"In light of this serious error in judgment, I ask that you accept our sincere apologies and our service on your behalf," he said quietly.

Vincent stood unmoving beside Aerith. "Explain, please," he said. Tseng hastily recounted the events of the past few weeks. When the Turk finished, Vincent sighed and dipped his head in acceptance. Suddenly, the tension that had hung so thick in the room moments before was gone. Behind Vincent, Aerith let out a little sigh and sat down on a dusty wooden pew.

"Of course, now we have to decide what to do when ShinRa figures out that we're gone," said Elena. "We should lay low for a while, you know, blend in with the common, everyday people." Rude grunted.

"Translation?" Tseng asked.

"I think he said that we aren't exactly common, everyday people, yo," Reno supplied helpfully. "Especially Elena. She's weird enough to stand out in any crowd."

The blonde cuffed Reno in the head. "Oh? I'm not the official ShinRa idiot with a goofy grin and a mop of something unidentifiable on my head."

Reno was about to make a smart remark when Tseng's confiscated phone began ringing in his hand. He stared at it, dazed.

"Who is it?" Vincent asked. Tseng grabbed it from a bewildered Reno and looked at the front readout.

"ShinRa," he mouthed. Vincent reached for the phone, raising his eyebrows in an unspoken question. The Turk leader wore a quizzical frown, but he shrugged and gestured to the phone. Vincent flipped it open.

x-x-x

Hojo paced off eight-step circles in the corner of the bare grey room. Rufus rolled back and forth, wearing a path from the window to the door and back again. Finally, the phone beeped to signal that the call had been connected. "Hello, Tseng?" Rufus said. He flicked the phone to speaker so Hojo could hear as well. The voice that came out was most definitely not Tseng.

"Hello, Rufus, Hojo," Vincent said, his deep voice slightly distorted by the volume at which it was being projected. "I commend your efforts to terminate me, but your charade is over. Unfortunately, you seem to have forgotten the first rule of the Turks: loyalty to one's compatriots comes above all." The phone crackled slightly as Vincent paused. The room seemed to darken when he spoke again.

"Our bond is forged once again," he said. "And this time you will not be able to break it." There came a click from the other end of the line, and the dial tone buzzed loudly until Rufus snapped the phone shut.

Hojo threw up his hands. "What are you doing, just sitting like nothing has happened!?!" Rufus merely looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Don't you see?" Hojo raged. "They're coming to attack the compound! All of them! And you said that they would do their job! Now look what a fine mess you've gotten us into!" He did an abrupt about-face and marched out of the room, yelling for Security to lock down the complex. Rufus sat motionless in his wheelchair, staring impassively out the window. Finally, he reached down and touched the hidden video intercom on the arm of his chair. His father came onto the line immediately.

"What?!" he grumbled, almost hidden by a stack of paperwork. He impatiently pushed it away and stared at the video cam.

"Permission to use Test Project 307?" Rufus asked. "The Turks seem to have changed allegiance and are reputedly on their way. They must be stopped before they can take advantage of their knowledge of this facility."

President Shinra's mustache bristled. "Permission granted," he said gruffly. With that, he stabbed at a button near the corner of his desk and the video feed was abruptly cut off. Rufus smiled grimly.

"Time to see what they're really made of," he said.


	10. Chapter 10

Vincent snapped the phone shut and handed it back to Tseng. "We must move quickly," he said. "First, we need a place to discuss strategy; this is not an operation to be taken lightly."

Aerith tentatively raised her hand and stepped forward. "I…I know a place that we could use if we go right away. But we can't take too long."

Elena raised her eyebrows. "And why would that be?"

Aerith started to withdraw inside herself, but glimpsed a tiny dimple in Vincent's cheek from the corner of her eye. Buoyed by the secret smile, she squared her shoulders and looked Elena straight in the eye. "Because this place I know of might be filled with AVALANCHE members later tonight. I'd really rather not explain to them why I have five Turks in my company. They're a little dangerous when it comes to anything that has to do with ShinRa."

Tseng shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps. I suppose it would not change their opinion in the slightest if we told them that we are no longer privy to the company?" Aerith shook her head.

"You'd have a pretty hard time of it. But if I don't tell them who you are, then it should be all right. Is that okay with everyone?" She looked at Vincent. He nodded.

"I am in agreement," he said. The other Turks murmured their approval, and Aerith leaned down to pick up her basket. The flower business could wait for another day.

"Let's go, then," she said, buttoning her jacket and leading her entourage outside. The sky was filled with dark clouds, and the short bursts of cold wind carried the smell of rain. Automatically, Aerith put a hand to her ribbon to make sure it was still there. She could feel Vincent's invisible smile without turning around. The group continued down the street.

Finally, Aerith stopped in front of an old gray building with a weathered sign that read "Seventh Heaven". She pushed open the glass door and stepped inside the bar. Elena smacked Reno's hands as soon as she took in the surroundings. "I know what you're going to ask, and the answer is no," she hissed into his ear.

Reno looked at her with puppy dog eyes. "Not even one little glass?" he whimpered. Elena glared at him. The redhead took the hint and dropped the subject.

The bartender came to the counter. "Aerith!" she exclaimed, leaning over the counter to wrap her in an enormous hug. "Just go right on back. You can use the spare room for now. The others aren't here yet." Aerith thanked her and preceded the Turks up the stairs.

Once they were all seated on the floor, Vincent leaned forward on his elbows. "Now," he said. "Surely the entire ShinRa complex is being readied for assault as we speak. So we must plan carefully." He was about to say more when the door abruptly swung open and banged against the wall.

Cid Highwind strode into the room, muttering to himself about something. He stopped suddenly when he spotted the motley group gathered there. "Aerith?" he croaked. "Who the heck are those guys?" Elena bristled slightly at this.

Aerith smiled sweetly at the grumpy blond pikeman. "Oh, just some people I met a little while ago who hate ShinRa as much as you do." Apparently mollified, Cid turned to leave. And then he saw Vincent.

"You! You!" he sputtered, pointing as he stumbled backwards. "I've seen you before! You're that danged Turk that I fought that one time!"

Vincent shook his head, trying to convey the impression that he had no idea what the man was talking about. He recognized him, all right, but it would do no good to come right out and say it.

Cid whipped a black cell phone out of his pocket and thrust it in Vincent's face. "Look familiar, planet-killer?" he sneered. "I know who you are." Abruptly, he turned to Aerith. "You! Why'd you bring a bunch of Turks here?" Cid glanced at the other Turks. "Yeah, I know about the rest of you, too! You dress like you're dang well clones of one another." Aerith patted her hands in the air, trying to calm the irate man.

"Cid, Cid," she soothed. "They're former Turks. Actually, they were just planning an assault on the ShinRa facility." Knowing how much Cid hated ShinRa, Aerith mentally crossed her fingers and gave him one last prod. "Do you want to help?" A bevy of expressions crossed Cid's face, as if he couldn't decide which one to pick. Finally, he settled on resigned.

"Fine," he grumbled. "I'm in. But only so I can keep my eye on these five. I don't trust a Turk as far as I could throw Bahamut." Aerith smiled.

"Very well, Cid," she said. "Tseng, if you please?"

The Turk leader obliged by pulling out a map of the ShinRa complex and a red pen. "Very well," he said. "Now, I believe that we should concentrate our attention on the west wall of the facility…"

x-x-x

Rufus Shinra rolled into the elevator and pushed the button for the basement. The doors slid shut behind him, blocking the noise of frantic staff trying to go normally about their duties and the intercom repeating a canned evacuation message at twice the volume it needed to. Rufus shook his head. Really, he should do something about the incompetence displayed by most of ShinRa's employees. After all, five Turks were a formidable force, but nowhere near enough to assault a complex as vast as ShinRa's.

The elevator chimed, breaking into his thoughts, and the heavy metal doors opened into the dank underbelly of the building. Rufus rolled forward, turning left when the basement narrowed into corridors. He reached a solid metal door, welded shut. Or so it appeared. He pressed his finger to the hidden print scanner and the door swung open with a hiss of hydraulics. A long tunnel sloped downwards, and Rufus could hear a voice at the other end. He sighed. Hojo was getting all worked up about something again.

"Finally!" the impatient scientist snapped when Rufus consented to enter the underground research lab. He wiped his perfectly sanitized hands on his immaculate white coat. "I need you to inspect Test Project 307 in order to ensure that it meets your specifications." Rufus nodded his consent, and Hojo led him to a heavy metal door. The scientist moved to the control pad set into the wall. Keying in the 20-digit password, swiping his finger across the print reader, scanning his retinas, and giving the correct voice recognition codes, he unlocked the huge walk-in refrigerator. Handing Rufus a breath mask, he donned his own and opened the door. A blast of cold air rushed out as the two went inside.

Hojo scurried among the aisles, reminding Rufus of a small child trying to choose which toy to show off first. Finally, with a little waggle of his fingers, he reached to the back of a shelf and grabbed a small brown glass bottle that appeared to be empty. Rufus raised his eyebrows.

"That's it?" he said. The tone of his voice made it plain that his already low opinion of the scientist had sunk even farther. "You wasted my time for a stupid bottle of nothing?! You assured me that Test Project 307 was the ultimate weapon for use against the Turks. I had to ask my father for permission to use it!" Rufus grasped the front of Hojo's lab coat, standing out of his wheelchair. Hojo's eyes bulged in surprise as his feet flailed off the floor. "Now," Rufus said. "Where is Test Project 307?" The scientist squeaked and pointed at the bottle that he still held in his hand. Rufus lowered Hojo to the floor, releasing his grasp on the scientist's collar.

Hojo rubbed his neck. "It's in the bottle. No, no!" he cried as Rufus moved towards him. "Project 307 is an invisible microorganism, carried by air currents. I modified the structure to target the genetic signatures of your Turks."

Rufus stroked his chin. "Ah. So you are not completely incompetent." The eerie calm with which he spoke the words was in utter contrast to his outburst of minutes before. "It will not harm anyone but the Turks?" Hojo gave him an abbreviated bow.

"Correct," the scientist confirmed. He handed Rufus a manila folder, along with the small bottle. "You will find the instructions for its use in the report I have prepared. Normally, I would utilize it myself, but I am quite occupied with another highly important experiment…" Hojo drifted off as he noticed the glare Rufus was giving him. He cleared his throat. "Yes, precisely…ahem, perhaps we should step, er, roll out of the freezer…" He gestured to the door, fluttering about nervously. Once they had both exited, the scientist went through the appropriate procedures to secure the door. Rufus slid the bottle and the folder under his robes, and then turned to fix Hojo with a stare that was positively malevolent.

"If you fail me again…" He let the sentence dangle unfinished in the air as he rolled out of the laboratory, back up to the sunlit levels of the building. The scientist's lair positively disgusted him.

x-x-x

It was approximately 1500 hours when the Turks crept silently through the ornamental shrubbery decorating the walls of the ShinRa compound. Aerith followed behind, feeling awkward in her borrowed black jumpsuit and incompetent next to the lithe athleticism of her companions.

She winced as the five in front of her halted suddenly and she bumped into Rude's back. Reno reached into his pocket and pulled out a plastic device that resembled a tiny motor. He set it on the ground and flipped the switch; a high-pitched whining noise emitted from it. "Security jammer," Vincent whispered. Aerith nodded her understanding.

Following their well rehearsed plan, she and the Turks reached simultaneously for their utility belts, reeling out the grappling hooks lodged in the pouches and tossing them over the wall. Silently, they pulled themselves hand-over-hand up the wall and dropped silently to the other side. Reno pulled out a remote, holding it ready to deactivate the security jammer.

Tseng waved a hand and they spread quickly across the concrete expanse in front of the building, heading for the doors. Vincent and Aerith peeled off in one direction, Elena and Rude in another, while Tseng and Reno remained hidden by the wall.

The direct link in Vincent's ear buzzed with static. He clicked his teeth once to acknowledge the incoming transmission. "Yes?" he said in a low voice.

"The security codes haven't not been changed yet. Not enough time. We'll have to move quickly, though. There's a fair chance that an unpleasant welcome'll be waiting somewhere."

"Acknowledged," said Vincent. Beckoning to Aerith, he punched a code into the door panel. The two sprinted down the echoing white corridor, breezing through the random scatterings of bewildered ShinRa technicians and scientists. Down at the end of the hall, they ducked into an empty office for a quick briefing with Elena and Rude.

"First the laboratories," said Elena. "Destroy any mako containers, liquid Lifestream, and stuff of the like. Then meet up on the office floor."

"And if you find Hojo, kill him," added Vincent.

"That too," said Elena. "Move out."

Vincent darted out the door with Aerith following close behind. He flung open a heavy metal door, tearing it half off its hinges with his clawed left hand. The two pelted down the stairs, descending lower and lower into the building's structure. Finally, Vincent reached the familiar steel door and started fumbling in his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Aerith panted.

Vincent pulled on a plastic glove and touched the right index finger to the wall. The door swung open. "Rufus Shinra's fingerprint," he said. He jogged down the curving ramp towards the light at the end, emerging into Hojo's secret laboratory.

"Ah! Delightful! More visitors to entertain!" Hojo's gleeful voice echoed around the cavernous space. The scientist stepped out into the center of the room. "Mr. Valentine, how wonderful of you to stop in again. With a friend, no less."

"I haven't forgotten, you abomination," growled Vincent.

"Of course you haven't," the scientist smirked. "However, I intend to kill you more thoroughly than last time." He stroked a hand across his chin. "Another idea has struck me, though. One that would involve more pain and suffering on your part." Vincent lunged over the console towards Hojo.

"Too late!" said Hojo. With one hand, he pulled out a bottle, labeled T.P.307.A. He threw it against the floor, where it shattered into several pieces. An ominous hissing noise came from the spot where it lay. With his other hand, he pulled out a tiny hold-out gun and snapped off a shot.

A cry, followed by a muffled thump, came from behind Vincent. He whirled around.

A single bullet hole marred the smooth pink fabric of Aerith's dress.


	11. Chapter 11

Rufus sat amidst a myriad of flickering screens, surrounded on all sides by brightly-lit dials, buttons, switches, and levers. He was almost afraid to breathe for fear that some control would move and cause catastrophic damage.

Absentmindedly, he rubbed the yellowed label on the bottle Hojo had given him. Rufus watched the security monitors with half an eye, waiting for a glimpse of movement to betray the Turks' position. Otherwise, he was engaged with trying to find the control systems for ventilation and air circulation in the ShinRa building.

After making a complete circle of the tiny room, Rufus spotted the console, tucked away in the corner. He rolled over to it and tapped a button experimentally. The screen came to life, bathing Rufus in an eerie blue glow.

LIST OPTIONS AVAILABLE AT THIS CONTROL STATION?

"Yes," Rufus said. The screen went black for a minute and then flickered to life again.

MONITOR STATUS OF AIR INTAKE AND OUTPUT

MONITOR AIR CIRCULATION

SHOW AREA SCHEMATICS

MODIFY AIR INTAKE AND OUTPUT

MODIFY AIR CIRCULATION

Rufus looked down at the instruction sheet Hojo had given him. "Step 2," he read quietly. "Select MONITOR AIR INTAKE AND OUTPUT." Rufus repeated the order, louder this time, for the benefit of the voice-activation system.

ERROR. PASSWORD REQUIRED FOR THIS FUNCTION.

Again, Rufus consulted his sheet of paper. "Theta-orion-three-two-seven-blue."

ACCESS GRANTED.

Slumping wearily against the back of his wheelchair, Rufus sighed. If the whole process took this long, the Turks would be storming the control room before he was even done arguing with the computer.

AIR INTAKE AND OUTPUT MAIN MENU

OPEN VENTS

CLOSE VENTS

"Open vents," said Rufus. A list of the choices scrolled endlessly before him. He rubbed his eyes. "Why can't there be a big red button somewhere that says push here to accomplish diabolical plans with minimum effort and time?" Looking at the instruction sheet once again, he was relieved to find that only three steps were left.

"Open vent thirty-two-eighteen-A," said Rufus. A small circular vent by his right hand cycled open. Rufus popped the seal on the bottle and dropped it carefully into the opening. "Air intake and output main menu," he said. The screen obligingly reverted to its previous list of options. "Close vents. Close vent thirty-two-eighteen-A."

LOG OFF?

"Yes," said Rufus, slowly losing his patience with all the procedures. He almost wished he'd let Hojo take care of it.

SUCCESSFULLY LOGGED OFF. PLACE PANEL IN STASIS MODE?

"Yes," Rufus sighed, resisting the urge to pummel the console. He settled for an emphatic thump of his wheelchair arm and resumed watching the security monitors. The depository vent fed into a vast network of ducts that circulated all the main hallways; it would not take long for the microorganism to spread through the air to find the Turks. Busy dreaming of things to do to Hojo if the scientist's latest scheme failed, Rufus did not notice the dark bruise slowly beginning to cover his right hand.

x-x-x

It was with the utmost limits of his strength that Vincent refrained from launching himself in a suicidal attack on Hojo. When he finally spoke, it was in a voice that dripped molten fury.

"You," he said, spitting out each word with venomous hatred, "will…regret…that."

Hojo tapped a finger to his nose with wide-eyed inquisitiveness. "Ah. Somehow I am not convinced. You already have the short end of the stick, so to speak." He gestured to the shattered bottle lying on the floor, which was still hissing very faintly. "Do you know what that is?"

Vincent ground his teeth. "Another one of your abominable experiments, no doubt." His hand dropped down to his belt. The next moment, Cerberus was in his hand with the safety off, pointed at Hojo's forehead. Equally as fast, the scientist's arm came up, his own gun pointed at Aerith.

"She's not dead yet, but I can easily make that happen more quickly if you wish," said Hojo. Vincent lowered Cerberus. "That's better. Now, perhaps, we can have a discussion in a civilized matter."

"There will never be anything remotely civilized about you!" Vincent howled, and leaped.

Hojo threw up his right arm, catching the Turk across the knees. Vincent hooked his feet under the scientist's forearm and flipped backwards, kicking the gun out of Hojo's hand as he went by. The weapon went clattering along the metal floor and Hojo, already off balance, tipped forward onto his hands and knees. Vincent landed a short distance away, dropping into a crouch with Cerberus in his grip.

Hojo dove for his gun. Vincent's leg snapped out and caught him in the ribs. With a grunt, the scientist used the momentum of the kick and rolled sideways, coming to his feet in a matter of seconds. Hands held vertically at chest level, Hojo landed a flurry of blows to Vincent's neck. The Turk retaliated, bringing the triple-barreled muzzle of Cerberus down hard against the side of Hojo's head. Momentarily stunned, the scientist wobbled backwards. Vincent sent him to the floor with a kick to the chin.

Reaching down with his left arm, the Turk clamped his claw around Hojo's neck and lifted him to eye level.

"Remember what I said," he growled, shaking with rage and the after-effects of adrenaline. Feeling strangely weak, he brought his weapon up to rest against Hojo's head. "No mercy. And now I'm going to finish this." Hojo sneered, despite the gun pressed tightly against his skull.

"No, you're not," said the scientist. "In fact, you won't be alive long enough to watch me kill your lady friend over there on the floor. Did you even wonder why you're shaking so much?"

Vincent squeezed harder. The scientist was not deterred. With a maniacal gleam in his eye, he easily pried Vincent's claw open and dropped lightly to the floor.

Slowly backing away, never taking his eyes off the Turk, he reached down and picked up his gun. "That bottle on the floor?" he said, addressing Vincent again. "It's full of a bioengineered virus. The moment it was exposed to your unique genetic structure, it began altering your DNA. Soon, you'll have so many mutated sequences that you won't be able to function. Clever, is it not?" Hojo smiled widely. "So, you see, there will be none of this 'finishing' business. At this point, you probably couldn't even lift your gun."

By now, Vincent was lying on the floor, convulsing uncontrollably. His breathing was shallow and raspy as he struggled for air. "You monster," he croaked.

Hojo shrugged. "Call me what you want. I'm not the one that's – urk!" The scientist suddenly pitched forward, falling to the floor in two pieces.

A translucent man with short black hair and bright blue eyes stood behind Hojo. "I call him _dead_," he said.

x-x-x

A flicker of movement on one of the screens caught Rufus' attention. "Finally!" he whispered, glimpsing Elena's distinctive blonde hair in hallway thirty-two-nineteen. "At last you'll pay the price for your betrayal." His hand itched. Absentmindedly, he scratched it and nearly jumped out of his wheelchair when a sharp knife of pain stabbed up his arm. "What the – " Rufus glanced down at his hand. It was black with bruising.

Frantically, he pulled open his robe. His entire body was covered in bruises. Ripples of pain coursed through his body as the neurotoxin he'd released into the vent took effect…on him. Elena, entirely unaffected, walked out of the camera's view and disappeared down the hallway.

Rufus' last words were "Hojo, you lying traitor. How long have you been planning this?"

_x-x-x_

The ethereal man stepped over to Vincent's side, laying his buster sword on the floor. He laid his hands lightly on the Turk's black hair; a faint greenish radiance came from beneath them. The convulsions stopped abruptly and Vincent slowly sat up, swaying dizzily. As soon as his eyes cleared enough for him to see, he gasped. "Zack," he said.

The man looked faintly surprised. "Do you know me so well?"

"No," said Vincent. "But I have been mistaken for you. Since my disguise consisted of shorter hair and blue contact lenses, it would make sense I inadvertently mimicked your appearance."

"Ah," said Zack. "This would have been the old man that runs the café, correct?" Vincent nodded. "That is my father. He still has not come to terms with my death, it would appear."

Vincent frowned. "Your death?"

"Why, yes," said Zack. "Live people generally don't come out of the Lifestream or emit a strange glow, and you most certainly can't see through them. Now, let me see to Aerith." He laughed at Vincent's incredulous expression. "My old girlfriend. But don't let that stop you. Dead men pretty much forfeit their claims to the living." He moved to Aerith's side and gently touched her head. As she stirred, Zack quietly picked up his buster sword and smiled at Vincent before he faded from sight in a swirl of green and white.

"Vincent?" Aerith's voice sounded thick, like she had just woken from deep sleep.

Holding back tears of relief, Vincent slid to her side and wrapped his arms around her. "Are you all right?"

She pulled his head to hers and their lips met in the gentlest of kisses. Pulling away, she looked straight into his crimson eyes.

"I am now," she whispered. She murmured something else, something that Vincent couldn't quite hear.

"Pardon?" he said, leaning forward slightly.

Aerith smiled. "I said, let's go outside. A laboratory is kind of a lousy place to declare undying love for someone."

Vincent got to his feet and pulled Aerith up beside him. "But you'll tell me that when we get out of here?" She nodded, still smiling. "Then let's go," he said. He offered his hand. Aerith slid her hand into his, and together, they walked outside into the sunshine.

x-x-x

"So," Reno said to Tseng. "How long are we gonna have to wait under this stupid hedge? There's ants. And beetles. And I'm hungry. Why didn't Elena at least let me have a drink before we started this stupid mission? Why are we crouched under a thorn bush? There's a branch poking right up my…"

Tseng decided now was a good time to make use of his remaining duct tape. It really was a shame to let anything go to waste.


End file.
